


The Ever After

by TrouserFreeTuesday



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrouserFreeTuesday/pseuds/TrouserFreeTuesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the Grey Warden Queen is returning home. Alistair just has to navigate a week of political landmines and social events, first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ever After

Alistair ’s palms are sweaty. Nervously, he wipes them on the fabric of his pants. Arl Teagan clears his throat pointedly. It’s a sort of sign the two have developed, a “Alistair you’re not being very kingly right now” kind of thing that Arl Teagan may be abusing. Or maybe Alistair just isn’t very kingly. But, Fereledan isn’t speaking Orleasian and hasn’t fallen into the sea so he can’t have done that bad of a job as king. Alistair straightens. His heart pounds in his chest, faster and harder than anything Alistair had experienced in recent years. Like when he’d met Elissa, that feeling he’d gotten the first time one of his jokes had made her laugh. It had taken a while, but given what they’d gone through he could hardly fault her for being upset. He had been telling a story about his templar training, about the time he’d run into the grand hall in nothing but his undergarments. He still cringes when he thinks of it, over twenty years later. But other people seem to find it hilarious, so after a few miserable days fleeing Lothering and Ostagar, he’d told her about it while he was helping her hang laundry. Elissa practically doubled over, eyes crinkling and shoulders shaking, and Alistair felt those first heart palpitations that marked the start of something wonderful.

And now he ’s feeling it again. Finally, after  _ years _ of being away, Elissa is returning home. She ’s about a week away, according to her last letter. The court is in a flurry, trying to get things ready. Alistair keeps trying to tell people Elissa will probably only want a warm meal, and a hot bath, not a grand ball, but everyone seems to brush him off. “Nothing but the best for the queen,” they all say. And it’s not that he doesn’t want that too, but he can’t say he’s eager to have his grand reunion play out in front of  _ everyone _ . He ’s going to cry. It won’t be pretty. Mind you, neither are the decorations. The Grand Hall is in the process of being redecorated, and honestly it’s a bit of a mess. That’s what you get for putting Alistair in charge. He’s starting to realize there’s a good chance he may be colourblind. Teagan keeps humming disapprovingly each time Alistair picks a colour swatch.

“Are you really going to put that shade of blue with red?” He asks. Even the servant holding the swatches is making a face like she’s just tasted a lemon.

“Blue?” Alistair asks, blinking. “Isn’t that yellow?”

Teagan sighs. 

“Well, then, Anwen,” Alistair says to the servant, “I’ll have to trust your judgment on this. But, one request, her favourite colour is blue so maybe add some splashes of that wherever you find appropriate.”

Anwen curtsies, and returns to her duties. 

Behind Alistair, Teagan makes a noise.  “Your highness. Is that why you’ve been insisting on having those yellow dresses made that she  _ hated _ ? ”

Alistair wheels around.  “She hated them? She never told me!”

“Well, no, your highness. She said you were so proud of the gift that she couldn’t bring herself to complain.”

For three years Alistair had elaborate gowns gifted to Elissa, and no one had bothered to tell them they were the wrong colour? Alistair sighs. It was no wonder she had tried to tell him to stop giving her gifts. Alistair freezes.  “Teagan. Should I have gotten her a gift? Is that a thing people do?”

Teagan laughs, and claps Alistair on the shoulder.  “Trust me, my king, seeing you will be as good as a gift as any.”

Alistair still buys her a locket. It can ’t hurt. 

The week seems to both drag on, and fly by. It ’s a curious thing. Alistair is kept so busy he can hardly think straight, but every hour that Elissa still isn’t around feels wasted. And there’s all these nervous thoughts floating around. What if she’s changed? Found someone new? Maybe she has a second head. Maybe she won’t find his jokes funny. Alistair doesn’t know. And the thoughts drive him crazy. 

Less crazy than the visiting nobles do, at least. Everyone is coming out to see the return of Fereldan ’s queen. The sentiment is nice, but it feels a bit like everyone is here to find more ammunition against Alistair’s leadership abilities. So when a servant comes to his room in the dead of night, asking Alistair to please come with him, this instant, as it was very important, Alistair’s alarm bells are ringing. Someone’s staged a coup. There’s been a murder. Something horrible. Maybe the Arl of Edgehall had fallen down some stairs and broke his hip. But the palace is quiet, and the servant seems remarkably calm. He leads Alistair through the cold stone halls, until they reach a winding staircase leading to one of the main watchtowers. The stairs are lined with lit candles.

“I’m flattered, Caron, but,” Alistair trails off when Caron gives him a look.

“Just go look, my lord, I promise it will be worth it.”

He probably shouldn ’t just blindly follow his servants orders. This is how regicide works. You go to a shifty abandoned watchtower and there’s suddenly a knife in your back and a new person on the throne. But it’s late, Alistair is half-asleep, and honestly, he’s just feeling hopeful. Elissa had always liked surprises. With each step, the anticipation builds up more and more inside of him, and he’s almost too nervous to open the door when he reaches the top of the stairs. This could be it. With a steadying breath, he pushes the door open. The chamber is full of more candles. How long had it taken to light all this? It must have taken hours. 

The world stops when he sees her. She barely looks different. Her hair is longer, sure, and swept elegantly over one shoulder. She ’s wearing a long ball gown, in a deep shade of blue, that flares out at her waist. The skirt is lined with gems that sparkle in the candlelight. She smiles warmly at him. He takes a shaky step forward. She looks just as beautiful as she did ten years ago. Alistair’s heart pounds.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, but I’d rather us not have our first meeting in front of the entire court.” She cocks her head to the side. “Alistair?”

“This is a dream,” he says. “I have to be dreaming.”

She laughs.  “You’re not. Or, I hope not. I can’t say I’m big on the idea of waking up alone in a camp in the woods again.” She pauses, looking Alistair up and down. He stays fixed in the doorway. Alistair blinks, trying to ignore the wetness building in his eyes. He’s not really sure what he should be doing, he feels stuck. Like if he moves she’ll be gone again. 

“It’s really me,” she says, stepping towards him. He can feel her eyes on him as she draws closer, looking him over closely. She looks just as nervous as he feels. When she lifts her hand, she does it slowly. Her hand shakes as she places it on his cheek. “Hello, handsome.” Her voice is thick.

Something breaks Alistair from his trance, and he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her tightly. And if he ’s crying, at least no one is there to see it. She holds on just as tightly. And for a sweet, blissful moment, it’s just the two of them alone in the world. No blight, no hole in the sky, just them and the candlelight and stars. Elissa pulls away, her lips curving into a warm smile. “I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought about this. Seeing you again. I was hoping I could have arranged a bard to serenade us, but you know what the court bard is like.”

“Horrible gossip,” Alistair agrees. “Probably for the best you kept her out of it. Besides,” Alistair adds, with a mischievous grin, “it means I can do this.” In a fluid motion, Alistair tips Elissa sideways and presses his lips to hers. With his other hand, he cups the side of her face. Elissa wraps her arms around his neck. Distantly, he’s a little surprised he didn’t drop in the process this time. He had when they had danced at their wedding. Plop. Right onto the floor. Elissa had found it hysterical, Arl Eamon had not. 

When he lifts her back up, Elissa is beaming.  “You’re right, this more than makes up for the lack of violins.”

“I’m sure I could make up for an entire horns section if we can sneak back to my chambers.”

Elissa arches his eyebrows.  “Feeling thorny, are we?”

“You could say that,” he says with a laugh. He tugs at her hand, pulling her towards the door. As they make their way down the stairs, Alistair watches the way she gathers up the fabric of her skirt to avoid the candle flame. The fabric looks almost yellow in the candlelight. “Hey, El, I have a question.”

“Hm?” 

“Your dress. It’s blue, right?”

She bursts out in laughter.  “It’s yellow.  _ Bright _ yellow, in fact. ”

Alistair can ’t stop himself from smiling. At least he can still make her laugh. The rest they can figure out. 

 

 


End file.
